I Sort of Kind of Maybe Love You
by TimeTheFinalFrontier
Summary: Everyone wants a piece of France, but only one nation can have him. In which France's friends take advantage of France's love for wine, Francis takes full advantage of the situation, and the Nordics take advantage of England.


De-Anon from Kink Meme

Prompt:

"One day, it's a normal World Meeting/other nation gathering but suddenly France finds himself overloaded with requests for him to become [nation]'s boyfriend/lover.

He's quite confused actually but hides it, and doesn't make a decision (for other nations) It's purely physical attraction at first (France is very attractive...) but evolves?

Bonus: ends in FrUK (OP love love loves this pairing~) but most others are fine (OP doesn't mind crack but please no FraNada or FraMona, it's too much like incest to me) other pairings can result, but it would be nice if you asked me first

Bonus: Canada (and others possibly) is neutral whole way through, other parts of BTT (and a few others possibly) also appear to be (whether they are actually neutral or not and stay that way is up to authornon)

Bonus: Belarus is not neutral"

* * *

Day before the world meeting:

Dear Journal,

Antonio, Gilbert and I got smashingly drunk. There are three beautiful Parisian women sleeping sweetly on my bed, and I think the others had a fivesome in the master guest room. I'm on the balcony right now, and for some strange reason my hands are glowing – we really did get fantastically drunk. Antonio made my try this odd new drink that tasted like liquid sex, but I don't think that has anything to do with anything.

I think that one of my sleeping beauties has come out to join me. I must bid you adieu, dear journal, for I have yet to christen this balcony with the beautiful privilege of l'amour~

* * *

World Meeting, Day One:

Francis was running late for the meeting. Again. He'd woken up with plenty of time to shower and shave, but when his lovers from the previous night had insisted on having some fun before they scurried off to work, who was he to refuse to whims of three beautiful women?

He was only three minutes late, and he was hoping that he'd be more easily forgiven if he pretended to be drunk. To complete the effect, he buttoned up his shirt the wrong way and messed up his formerly perfect hair. He stood for a few moments outside of the solid oak doors that separated the meeting room from the passageway and tried to discern what was going on in the next room.

The meeting was just beginning, so he flung open the doors and announced himself grandly. "Bonjour, mes amis, I will be your host for this sexy world meeting!" He bowed low and grinned to himself. All eyes were glued to him as he made his way to the front of the room.

"So, our first topic today will be-" immediately Alfred's hand shot up. Francis gave him a disapproving look but gestured for him to speak nevertheless.

"Will you marry me?" Alfred asked, standing up and looking for all the world like a puppy wagging his tail.

Francis laughed. "I don't consider marriage proposals without a minimum of three dates."

Feliciano piped up. "Oh, we've been on at least four dates! Marry me!"

Francis glanced nervously at Ludwig. "But, Feli, you're already married to Ludwig."

Ludwig coughed and stood up. "You can marry both of us," he offered.

"No, you potato bastard, if Francis is going to marry anyone, it's going to be me!" Lovino all but shouted. "If you even try to touch him I will bring the full force of the mafia crashing down on your head. Francis is mine!"

"Nyet, he's mine," Ivan laughed. "Francis is a man of taste, a man of pleasure – and Mother Russia is the biggest of all of you. Surely Francis would wish to take me as his wife, da?"

Arthur stood up violently and slammed both of his hands down on the table with all of his might. The room quieted instantly. "Gentlemen," he began. "Let us not forget our manners. We can all agree that Francis is a beautiful man." A murmur of approval spread across the room. "As such," Arthur continued, "he deserves to be seduced. To be wooed. To be presented by each of you in turn the best you have to offer so that he may choose the one among you who will love him the most faithfully and the most passionately.

"And what of you?" Ivan asked. "Will you be trying to win Francis's love?"

Arthur gaze Francis a long, lingering glance. Their eyes met for a brief moment before Arthur tore his gaze away, blushing heavily. He cleared his throat. "No," he said softly, refusing to look at anyone.

The world went silent for a moment before splitting apart into small groups to plan their seduction. Only Arthur and Francis remained alone.

"What?" Arthur asked bitterly when he felt Francis come to stand next to him.

"After all this time we've been enemies, you're not even going to try to conquer my heart?"

"It's not that," Arthur whispered.

"What?"

"It's not that!" Arthur repeated, finally making his eyes met Francis's.

"Then what is it?" Francis asked tenderly.

Arthur snorted. "Why bother? We both know I don't stand a chance."

* * *

Dear Journal,

Well, today was odd...

Everyone wants to marry me, it seems. I walked into the meeting, all ready to be a good host and talk about global warming and this and that and to pretend to care when everyone starts to fight, but then out of nowhere Alfred of all people proposes to me.

At first I thought it was a joke, but they all started planning once Arthur suggested that they seduce me rather than just mindlessly propose.

And speaking of Arthur... Ivan asked if he'd be joining in the competition, and to everyone's surprise (except mine) he said no. I, too, asked him about it, because he seemed uncommonly sad, and no one likes to see their best enemy/love of their life sad. He looked like a kicked puppy when I asked him and then he said he wouldn't stand a chance. What is that even supposed to mean? Everyone knows I love him, and I don't exactly try to hide it... Does he just not notice my hands all over his perfect rear everytime we are in the same room together!? Those Englishmen are such prudes; I will have to be more obvious next time...

Anyway, while they're all busy trying to woo me I'll be trying to woo Arthur like I've been trying to do for the past five hundred years, and if I fail, which I always do, I will chose one lucky suitor (I wonder if Ivan's as big as he says he is?) and maybe I can get some gifts out of the deal. Excuse me while I go make my five-hundred item Amazon wish-list public and e-mail it to all of my contacts...

* * *

Dear Diary,

I. Am. So. Mad!

Today was the first day of the World Meeting. Of course it was held in Paris, just to make me suffer, and Francis was, naturally, the host. So here I was, all resigned for a week of suffering, when Francis walks into the room and everyone swoons. Which is understandable, because he is a fine specimen of a man an averagely attractive nation. But then everyone seems to have suddenly fallen in love with him, and everyone starts asking him to _marry_ them. And if that weren't bad enough, Alfred started it. Alfred of all people! Alfred, who knows how much I adore can tolerate the Frenchman! Alfred, who Francis adores (if that stupid Revolution of his is anything to go by, and it is, it was only two hundred years ago). So, at first I thought it was a joke, because Alfred does stuff like that all the time when it's just the four of us – me, him, Francis, and that other guy that sort of looks like a mix between Francis and Alfred (what's his name again?) – but then everyone started on it. Even Lovino. And if there was a trophy for People Least Likely to Ask Francis to Marry Him, Lovino would have four of them.

So, because I love sort of respect Francis because he did manage to win one or two wars in his pathetic military history, I stood up and suggested that they seduce him. You know, because he sort of kind of maybe deserves it... (And for the record, I never said any of this!) And to make matters worse, the frog comes up to me and asks if I'd be taking part in the insanity unfolding around us, and I was all ready to tell him that I wanted nothing to do with his froggy face and he should bugger off and leave me alone, but then I got all soft and I said no and he asked why and I said it's because I wouldn't stand a chance... Of all the things to say! Because, now, of course, he _knows._ He knows that I sort of kind of maybe don't hate him as much as I claim to, and not only will that ruin my reputation, but it'll also clue him into the fact that I am completely and utterly and unforgivably in love with him!

As Alfred would say, facepalm.

* * *

World Meeting, Day Two:

The table was groaning under the weight of buckets of chilled wine, platters of decedent food, piles of presents, boxes of clothes, stacks of gifts, colorful bouquets of roses and lilies, and everyone except Natalia, Arthur, and Matthew was wearing a dress.

Francis waltzed into the room and internally gasped at the display. He covered his surprise with a pleased laugh, and spun around the room, kissing each nation in turn. Feliciano laughed throughout the entire thing, and Ukraine started to weep. Francis gave Matthew a tender kiss on the forehead, and then went on to do the same to his bear, much to the delight of the younger nation.

However, when Francis reached Arthur, he scooped the other up and sat him down on the only empty portion of the table – because Arthur wasn't even trying and Alfred had stolen Matthew's unused section – and ravaged him. He was as obvious as he could possibly think to be, demanding control of their kiss and letting his hands slip below the waistband of Arthur's trousers. The whole display lasted for an entire thirty seconds, at which point Arthur roughly shoved Francis away and spit in his general direction.

Francis sat up and brushed off the rejection with his usual laugh. "It looks like sweet Arthur has not been bitten by the love bug that has been eating the rest of you alive!"

The room erupted in laughter, and as it quieted, the nations began to present their gifts. There were cakes and cookies and cookware and wine and wineglasses and sauces and jams and spreads and fruit and fruit sauces and fruity smelling creams and lotions and body sprays and bubble baths and baskets full of bath sponges and flat screen TV's and Alfred even got him a kitten.

When the meeting was over, he announced that he had yet to decide. This was met with a chorus of disappointed groans and then a frenzy of "I love you's." Francis dismissed the meeting and one by one everyone filed out until only Arthur was left behind.

"I... I got you something too," Arthur said shyly.

"Oh?" Francis smirked.

"I-it's small, but I think you'll like it. It wasn't on your list, but it's sort of one of those things you don't know you want until you have it..."

"Let's see it, then."

Arthur produced a small box and Francis's eyes widened.

"I said I'm not accepting rings yet," he said, almost disappointed. Of course he'd accept one from Arthur under normal circumstances, but he was pretty sure that something was not right with the way everyone was acting and until he got to the bottom of it he didn't want to take advantage of his one true love and ruin any chances he may have in the future for a few days of bliss.

"It's not a wedding ring, you git. Just try it on."

Francis accepted the box reluctantly and slid the rather plain-looking ring onto his finger. "Wow," he said, unimpressed when it did nothing.

Arthur sat down beside him, growing more excited by the second. "Okay, so now close your eyes..." Francis did as instructed. "And think of a place, any place."

Francis did so, and when he opened his eyes, the ring was glowing, and the walls were painted with scenes from Paris. He thought of his palace in Versailles, and the colors of the royal city splashed themselves across the walls.

"It even works with places from the past," Arthur went on. "It's a bit dodgy, though. I tried to picture the place we all lived back when we were part of Rome, but there were cars in the street and a skyscraper right next to the Coliseum." Arthur giggled.

"So..." He asked after a while. "Do you like it?"

Francis gave him a genuine smile. "I love it."

Arthur grinned, and in that moment they realized how close they were sitting. Arthur froze and Francis leant in, and as soon as it seemed that their lips would touch, Arthur shot up out of his seat, causing Francis to topple over.

"Why do you like making me suffer so much?" Francis groaned.

"Payback," Arthur said as he helped Francis off the floor. "For being such a perverted frog."

* * *

Dear Journal,

About half of the items of my wish-list are currently on my living room floor or being shipped from various parts of the world. Life is good.

Alfred gave me a kitten that he named after himself, and right now to local church is looking after him and hopefully baptizing him and frying all the hidden cameras that might be hidden in his fur.

Arthur gave me the best present. It's this ring that puts pictures on the walls. I have no idea how it works, but I just think of something, or someone, and there it is, on the wall. Right now I'm thinking of him... Naked. On my bed. Under me.

Well, you've have to excuse me as I take care of some rather urgent 'business...'

* * *

Dear Diary,

He kissed me today in front of everyone! And then he bad-touched me. I could probably get him arrested for that even though I sort of liked it!

I gave him that new ring I had Japan make for me. He seemed to like it and then he almost kissed me for real. (Ravaging me in front of the entire world does _not_ count.) The bastard is probably using it to make porn of him and Alfred and that stupid electronic cat that Alfred gave Francis to spy on him.

Knowing Francis, though, he probably took it to the church to get baptized, and knowing Alfred, he didn't waterproof it because he doesn't know Francis the way I do. Sigh...

I'm ditching the world meeting tomorrow. I don't need to sit around and listen to everyone else try to seduce my beloved my worst enemy. Maybe I'll find some neutral nations and try to clear my mind with them...

* * *

Somewhere in Copenhagen...

A tall, blue-eyed mountain opened the door a few minutes after Arthur rang the bell. "H'llo," it said.

Arthur looked up and up into its eyes. "Um, h-hello, I'm looking for Lukas..."

"He's ins'de," the mountain said. Arthur tried to peek around, but it was all to no avail.

"Uh, may I come in?"

The blue eyes squinted. "I d'n't kn'w. C'n ya?"

A heavy silence descended between them. After a few moments, a roaring thunder broke the quiet and a huge hand moved the mountain out of the doorway. "Come on, Sve, stop fucking with the guests," a smile face with wild eyes and wilder hair laughed. "Come in, come in, whoever you are."

Arthur was starting to doubt the logic of visiting the Nordics to calm his mind when two large hands pulled him into the house and slammed the heavy door behind him. A whirlwind of pure strength whisked him out of the entry-way and into the living room where three normal-size nations were lounging on the various pieces of furniture scattered across the room.

Arthur blinked in confusion before he eyes found the one person he knew. "Lukas," he shouted, and threw himself at his poker-faced friend.

"What did you two do to him?" Norge asked the two huge nations standing side-by-side in the doorway, unimpressed.

Matthias laughed. "Nothing, Norge! Why do you three always assume we do anything to your guests?"

"Because when they come in they're shaking so badly they can barely speak!" Lukas said with a glare.

"Yeah, and whenever Estonia brings over his friends they always wet their pants!" Tino pouted and Berwald scooped up his wife to cuddle him.

"Well, _my_ guests are always fine," Emil boasted, smirking as he leveled up on the game he was playing.

"That's because they belong to that hyperactive Asian family that I've forbidden you to see, little brother!"

"Oh, give me a break," Emil sighed. "You've forbidden me to see anyone that isn't you. Including Matthias, Berwald, and Tino. Even though they live with us. As if that were possible." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!" Lukas growled. "And, Arthur, please stand up. They're not going to hurt you."

"Yeah," Tino agreed, jumping down from Berwald's arms. "Berwald is harmless," he said, stroking his husband's huge bicep.

"And so is Matthias," Lukas said.

"Yeah," Matthias shouted in agreement, swinging his battle-axe around.

"R-right," Arthur stuttered, cowering behind Tino.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you if they get too drunk! I'm Finnish!" He said proudly.

"Yes, yes, of course," Arthur said doubtfully.

"Here, watch," Tino said, letting out a fierce battle-cry and running towards Matthias. In one swift motion, he split the battle-axe in half and slid between Matthias's legs and took the larger nation down in a single mighty blow. "See?" He asked, puffing out his chest.

"W-wow," Arthur said, wondering what had made him come here today.

"Tino is actually the most destructive member of our household besides me," Matthias declared as he tried to stand and failed.

"They wrote legends about the both of us!" Tino added.

"It's true," Emil laughed, pointing to the bookcase behind him. Three books stood in a position of prominence – the Eddas and the Kalevala.

"It's also not something to be proud of," Lukas said.

"But I'm the national hero," Tino pouted, at which point Berwald came and picked him up off of Matthias for another cuddle.

"Not you," Lukas said. "Him," he continued, pointing to his boyfriend.

"Yeah, apparently they based the trickster god who will bring about the end of the world on me..." Matthias admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was a bit rambunctious in my younger days."

"Was?" Lukas mocked, and everyone except Arthur laughed.

"Anyway, why are you here?" Emil asked, putting down his game.

"Yeah, why _are_ you here?" Matthias asked, pulling himself off the floor and dusting himself off.

"Because of what's happening at the World Meeting."

Once more, everyone save for Arthur laughed. "We don't really pay much attention to what happens down there," Tino said.

"Well, everyone is trying to seduce Francis."

"What does that have to do with you?" Matthias asked. "You hate him."

"No he doesn't," Lukas said.

"What? How do you know?" Matthias asked.

"The way he acts," Emil said, oblivious to the glares his older brother was sending his way. "It's the same way he acts toward you." He smirked as Lukas blushed deeply. "He loves you even though he doesn't want to. Same with Arthur and Francis. Anyway," he said, going back to his game.

"That's because they don't love each other as much as me and Ber do!" Tino cried passionately, reaching up to capture Berwald's lips in a tender kiss.

"Hey, that's not true," Matthias exclaimed.

"Is too! We can have more sauna sex that you can!"

"Yeah, well, Lukas can make me come faster!"

"That's because you have no stamina! Anyway, Berwald can make me come more times that you can make Lukas come!"

"Whatever! We can do it longer in the snow!"

"We can kiss longer!"

"We've been married more times!"

"We never had to get divorced!"

"That's because you always kept breaking us up!"

"Yeah, well, Berwald and I can have sex when we're not even in the same country!"

"It's called phone sex, guys, and I have it all the time. It's great," Emil said, enjoying the rage clouds building over Lukas's head.

"Nuh-uh," Tino insisted. "We can do it telepathically."

"Really?" Everyone said in unison.

"Ja," Berwald said, speaking for the first time in a long time. "It's tr'e."

"You have to teach me how to do that!" Matthias screamed, throwing himself at Berwald's feet. "Please!"

"Oh, grow up," Lukas snorted, nudging his boyfriend with his foot.

"Norge, stop, that tickles," Matthias giggled.

"Guys?" Arthur asked. "Can I leave now?" During the commotion, he'd tried the front door, the back door, and all of the first and second floor windows, but they'd all been locked.

Everyone stopped fighting and screaming to look at him.

They shared a look and everyone secretly smirked. "It is a tradition in our house," Lukas said, standing, "to offer any guest a meal before they leave."

"Oh, no thank you," Arthur said, eager to leave.

"Oh, we insist," Matthias said. "Which of our countries would you like to try food from?" Everyone snickered as Arthur looked around.

"Uh, no offense to the rest of you, but Emil seems the most normal. So I guess I'll have some Icelandic food." At this, both Emil and Lukas howled with laughter and fell out their shared couch.

"Very well, then," Matthias said, struggling not to laugh himself. "Come out into the garden and we will serve you."

* * *

Emil came out into the garden a few minutes later carrying five plates of what looked like cheese.

"You didn't open the can in the house, did you?" Matthias asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Of course not," Emil said, looking at the older Nordic like he'd grown a second head. "Anyway," he continued, "this is an Icelandic national delicacy called Hákarl. It's a bit strong but I'm sure you'll be able to handle it."

"Yes, yes, of course, thank you," Arthur said, accepting the plate graciously. He was quite hungry after all. "Is there a special sort of thing we have to do before eating or can we just begin?"

"Oh, just dive in," Emil said, and began eating his portion. Lukas, too, started on his plate and discreetly emptied Matthias's plate into his own. Berwald and Tino began at a normal pace and Lukas started complaining about how he liked surströmming better. "Go on, eat," Emil encouraged Arthur.

Arthur, convinced that the food was not poisoned, picked up one of the cubes with his fork and took about half of it into his mouth. He chewed for a few moments, eyes watering, and tried to swallow. However, he gagged, and threw up over the side of the table into a waiting pail. "It's all right," Matthias assured him. "I don't really like it either."

"What _is_ it?" Arthur asked, disgusted.

"Hákarl," Emil answered. "Fermented poisonous shark. It's been rotting for over a year!"

* * *

Arthur showed up at Francis's house an hour later sniffling and shaking.

"Where were you today?" Francis asked, ushering Arthur in and wrapping him in a silky soft blanket.

"I was at the Nordic's house," he sniffed.

Francis sighed. "What did they do to you?"

"They made me eat H-Hákarl. Please, Francis, make me some of those French pancakes!" Arthur began to wail, and Francis sat him down gently on one of the soft kitchen chairs.

He got out a small tub of crepe batter he kept just for occasions like this – a drunk or crying Arthur was not an uncommon presence in his household – and began to whip it into a frothy mix. "Tell me all about it, cherie," he soothed as he poured the batter into a heated pan on the stovetop. He smiled a little as Arthur sniffled behind him. Times like these reminded him of all the times in the past when a young, scared Arthur would come crying to him for warm food and warm arms to hold him.

"T-they're insane! They haven't changed a bit in a thousand years! They were yelling and shouting and Berwald and Matthias are so _big_ and scary..." Arthur pouted and crossed his arms.

"Why did you go in the first place," Francis asked, knowing that Arthur could seldom lie when he was this upset.

"Because! I couldn't stand another day of watching the others compete for your affection.

Francis smiled softly. "It's no competition, you know. I've already decided."

Arthur stopped sniffling for a moment to look up at Francis hopefully. "You have?"

"Yup," Francis said, grinning.

Arthur's face fell. "It's Alfred, isn't it? It's always Alfred, and I always come in second-place and second best. It's not fair!"

"It's not Alfred," Francis responded, scooping the first crepe out of the pan and onto a plate for Arthur. "I will tell everyone at the meeting tomorrow."

Arthur began nibbling on his crepe.

"My only fear is that he will not have me," Francis admitted, studying Arthur's reaction carefully.

"Are you kidding? The whole world is mad for you, and you could have anyone anyway on your worst day."

"Anyone?" Francis inquired.

"Uh-huh. Anyone."

"Anyone at all?" He pressed.

"Yeah, anyone. Even those crazy Nordics, even though Tino and Berwald are married and so are Lukas and Matthias and even though Lukas is so possessive of Emil. I don't know why you'd want them, but you could have them, if you really wanted them. And as much as I hate you, you could even have me, even though we both know you'd never want me." Arthur took a deep breath and slumped in his chair as he finished his meal.

"Come on, cher, let's get you to bed," Francis said once Arthur had finished his meal. Arthur only protested a little bit at being tucked into the master guest bed, and fell asleep almost as soon as Francis had finished kissing him goodnight.

* * *

World Meeting, Day Four:

"Ladies and gentlemen," Francis began, meeting everyone's eyes in turn. "I have made a decision."

"Thank you, thank you," Alfred shouted, standing up and pulling a handful of rose petals from his jacket.

"It is not you, Alfred," Francis responded with a smile. Alfred let the petals fall from his hand sadly. "In fact," he continued, "it is not any of you who actively participated in this sad state of affairs. Most of you have given me many interesting and beautiful gifts, which I will love and treasure forever and whose sentiment I will one day return in full. However, one gift stood out in its simplicity, its elegance, and its usefulness."

Francis began to walk around the room, making eye contact with everyone he passed. "See, last night, I was thinking of the last few days and what would possess all of you into such madness! I understand," he said with a smirk, "that I am a beautiful man, but some of you would rather lay with a poisonous serpent than with me, and others of you are in committed relationships. So you can imagine my surprise, _Antonio,_ when I was thinking of how this could have possibly started and my mind wandered to our drinking night five days ago and this helpful little ring presented me with an image of none other but you and Gilbert spiking my drink with god knows what. Really, you two? You allowed Lovino to be involved in this mess, Antonio? And you allowed your little brother and his lover to get entangled, Gilbert? For a joke?" He laughed and slapped both of his friends on the back. "In any case," he continued, "I have, as I mentioned before, made a decision. As such, I humbly present myself for consideration before the Honorable Lord Arthur Kirkland."

And with that, the assembled nations fell silent and Francis fell to his knees before Arthur.

* * *

Arthur laughed and pulled Francis off of the floor. "You are _not_ topping," was all he said as he pulled Francis out of the room.

Alfred stood up and slammed his hands down on the table. "I want my spy kitten back, god damn it! I spent good fake money on that baby!"


End file.
